Dances In Pyrelight
by Amilyi
Summary: Kurath and his followers wreak havoc on a human outpost, but this is not even a taste of their future plans. Chapter 9 now up! Please 'Read & Review!
1. Prologue: Destructive Desire

A/N: Okay… as with any story that has a detailed history or specific details that can affect the storyline, I'll begin by telling you what I do and do not know, so you can correct me before I make any mistakes, or understand why I make some if I do. I'll try to keep this as short as possible.

Anyway, I know how the alien lifecycle works, and that they use some sort of telepathy with the queen. That's the aliens side sorted. Predators, I'm not so sure about. My main concerns that affect this storyline are with (possibly) lifespan and honour system. I think that they live for over a thousand Earth years, and I have managed to find a little on their society and honour system, but hey – correct me if I go wrong anywhere and I'll try to go back and re-write over my mistakes. That's that done, so let's get on with the story.

~Prologue~

The outpost on L-V 143 was a quiet place, with little contact with hostile beings.  For those who wanted to start a new life away from the hustle and bustle of the home-world, it was the perfect new beginning.  But this perfect beginning had an unhappy ending.

Smoke billowed up into the darkened sky, and the brazen flames glowed and gave light to the massacre. For that was what it was; not a fight, but a massacre. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, belonging to those that in life had been given weapons to defend themselves with, and even of those that had not. They were the bodies of men, women and children. Here and there, there was the mutilated corpse of a pregnant woman, or a baby no older than eighteen Earth months. Not a single corpse had a skull, and those that were still standing – still fighting – would not have their skulls for long either.

Kurath stared at the freshly taken human skull in his talons. There was a plate of a human metal covering the top right half of the skull, making it an interesting article and a unique item for his trophy collection. Upon the ground lay the body that it had come from: a human warrior – male he guessed – with armour and the symbols 'U', 'S', 'C' and 'M'. He did not know what they meant, but he knew what it meant to him; armed and worthy prey. He was the leader of a hunting ship called the _Ga'ed-a'rath_, and his crew consisted of seven, including himself. All full, Blooded warriors. Nie'de stalked over to him, holding in his left talon three bloody spinal columns with their skulls still attached at the ends.

"We should go soon," he warned. "_Our own_ will realise our presence here by the energy readings – and I very much doubt that the pyode amedha will be ignoring our presence – not that we couldn't handle them just as well as we have done so already." Kurath flared his tusks in agitation; yet again his second-in-command was treating him as if he did not know all of the factors, and what course of action to take. Kurath could think for himself; he was no fool.

"I want our task here finished first and then we shall leave," he told Nie'de. "Finish up quickly; make sure none are left alive and raze the buildings to the ground." Nie'de acknowledged his leader's commands with a bow of the head before he cloaked and ran back to the ooman buildings and into the dying fray. Kurath walked back to the ship, deciding that he would let all of the younger Blooded enjoy their fun with the remaining prey. After all, none of the specimens here were actually worthy of his attention. As he passed by the woods on his left, he noticed 'Tkon'te hanging up some skinned corpses. Kurath smiled. They were a message – all of it was. It was just as much a message to their own kind as it was to the pyode amedha, and the message was this: choose to keep out of our way, or you have chosen death.

And it will not be kind.

~End of Prologue~


	2. The Crew of the Aki're'ga

Prologue Reviews:

Dan Hunter – O.o I got a review! I'm actually very surprised by this, because after checking to see if this story could be found anywhere else but on my profile page (three days after uploading it), it turned up with nothing – even on the 'Find' section. Obviously that isn't the case now!

But anyway, I'm pleased I've captured your attention even when I've put so little up for this story so far. I'm a big Aliens/Predator fan too, which is why I'm writing this – it's a fan's dedication to the series! Hopefully I will use all of its potential – I strive to make my stories as original as possible, and plot twists are a favourite of mine too. You're right about Kurath and his followers having their own agenda, but what it is has yet to be revealed. And you're not wasting my time – I love reviews and opinions from others, so thanks for reviewing – and for adding me to your favourites list!

A/N: Just a technical note on name pronunciations, because there is a new name that is introduced in this chapter which is spelt one way, and yet when spoken it sounds entirely different. Jechonde – you would think about pronouncing it 'Jeh-chon-dee', wouldn't you? But, like with the German language, the 'J' is actually pronounced 'Y'. The 'ch' is pronounced 'ck', and also the ending sound is not 'dee' but 'day'. So the actual pronunciation is 'Yeh-khonn-day'.

Why not have a name that is spelt how it sounds? I'm experimenting! XD

(And it'll probably never happen again. I can't make promises though…)

And I forgot the disclaimer in the prologue – oops! Well, here it is:

Disclaimer: I do not own either of the Aliens or Predator franchises, nor anything linked to them (other than this story that is). If I did, I would be paying people to think for me.

~Chapter 1~

"Koora!" Fi'dre'n shouted for the third time in a row. The other four around the table sighed as they put down their cards. He grinned wildly as he pulled in the 'coins'. They were pieces of metal, which could be melted down and made into a weapon, or a piece of body-plating once he collected enough metal. Altogether, he had gathered one-hundred and twenty coins from his opponents, as well as the thirty of his own. Another good win! The other males around the table did not look happy at all, but the female was in a very dark mood; not because she had no coins left – the coins meant less to the females than the males – but because she had lost. Fi'dre'n decided it would be in his best interests if he did not gloat over his victory. "So…" he addressed the female, "What do you do back on the home world?"

Nidrua surveyed the rest of the lounge from his table in the centre of the room. This ship was his, along with its crew of twelve underlings, all blooded warriors looking to further their names with hunts. He looked around at his men enjoying the company of the three female guests, and could not help but smile. There was long-haired Uyari and broad little Ekkudo sitting on a reclining female's lap, each sitting on one of her legs. If they had done this with any other female, he was sure that they would need healing, but the one they were with seemed very friendly and was laughing along with him. Around one of the tables was the largest crowd; fierce young Fi'dre'n was playing Koora along with tall Trecha, ever-irascible Kekhani, fiery-eyed Askar'n and another female. Around them short Er'ed and Yojhain, the lad that wouldn't stop wearing that bloody mask of his, were watching the game's progress. On the table next to them, Shar-Issq talked (unsurprisingly) whilst his companion, Ah'ni'drin, the runt of the pack, yawned and moved his head in acknowledgement to what was being said – though Nidrua did not believe for a second that he was actually listening to Shar-Issq's babble. And on the very far side of the room, talking alone with the other female was his second-in-command, Jechonde. The female had taken a special interest in him, for his trophy case consisted of only the most presentable, ferocious and rare sport known (and even unknown, as one of his trophies had proved) to yautja-kind. Nidrua knew that the young warrior was going to go far. He had pride – enough to know to stand up for himself and let himself be seen, but only enough so that he was not a show-off, and cause him to kill himself by being blind from the truth: he was not invincible. He was not a god. And too many warriors thought that they were gods nowadays. As Nidrua watched his men with the females, he could not help but sigh. He was old; his retirement was near, and this would be his last mating season. He was the father of ninety-three suckers, but he felt that his real children were the lads he saw in front of him. He would miss them all.

Me'gaht entered the room, and when he saw his leader, he immediately strolled over to him.

"I thought you were meant to be piloting the ship. You did remember to put it on auto-pilot, didn't you?" Nidrua asked him rather patronisingly. Me'gaht gave him a blank stare. It did not instil confidence.

"I'll… get back to the bridge…" he said, turning to go. It was a pretty convincing performance up until the point where Me'gaht broke into a grin after he had almost fully turned away from Nidura's gaze.

"Come back here boy!" He demanded, and Me'gaht returned to his side, the grin still present. "Now why did you come here to see me?" Me'gaht took the smile from his face and began to absently touch one of his heavily decorated braids, the metal rings chinking against others in his hair.

"There was a message," he began. "We have been ordered to immediately investigate an incident on _Yrr'gen_, involving energy-readings like those given off by yautja weaponry near a known human outpost."

"So? A hunting party goes on a hunt – why should we investigate that?"

"The energy-readings are still being given out and are quite high. They do not think this is from human technology. The message came from the Arbitrators. They think that the attack was done by Bad Bloods." Nidrua growled as he stood up. He had once dealt with Bad Bloods before when he was as young as those around him now. They killed his leader and a few of his brothers-in-arms, but in the end all but one was killed – and he was hunted down later on. If Bad Bloods were involved, Nidrua would gladly put an end to them.

"Get Shar-Issq to navigate you to Yrr'gen. We must get to the planet as quickly as possible. Now we will have to get rid of these females as soon as possible, but I doubt that they will want to leave until they have what they want. Oh, I hate quick fumbles!" Nidrua commented, to see how the underling would react. There was very little response, so he decided to jab the knife in a little further. "Of course, you wouldn't know what a quick fumble feels like would you? Or any kind of intimate female contact…" He grinned, tilting his head and looking at the younger yautja sideways. Me'gaht grunted and furrowed his brows, pouting. Females had not taken any notice in his trophy-collection, and Me'gaht was sure it was because he didn't have a kainde amedha queen's skull. It always amused Nidrua to intimidate his subordinates – even after all of these years. But the time for play was over; work had to be done. "You're dismissed. Grab Shar-Issq and get to the bridge." Me'gaht bowed his head in respect for his leader, and – always being the one to take commands literally (especially for humour purposes) – he _grabbed_ Shar-Issq by the neck, dragged him over the table and only once they were outside the door did he explain what he was needed for. Nidrua shook his head in disappointment._ Well, they are what you make them,_ he thought to himself. At least Ah'ni'drin seemed happy to be relieved of his company. He turned back to the room and rubbed his hands together. The females would not be happy about leaving so soon – and neither would his men.

*

They arrived at the ooman outpost – and were shocked by what they found. There were bodies of children… of pregnant women… of a whole society – young and old – decimated in under an hour, from what they could tell. Flames even now licked at burning rubble, and skinned bodies still hung from the trees. The annihilation was incredible. He did not want to believe that once honourable warriors could do such a thing, and yet… remembering what he had witnessed Bad Bloods do all those centuries ago… he knew he had to. Nidrua's fist shook violently with rage. This was indeed the work of Bad Bloods – and he was going to make sure that their actions would not further taint the specie's name.

~End of Chapter 1~

A/N: Yup, this was one of those character introduction chapters. Obviously the pace is going to pick up.


	3. The Crew of the Ga’eda’rath

Chapter 1 Reviews:

Dan Hunter – It's good to hear that the last chapter wasn't too boring.  Hopefully this chapter has been worth the wait!

~Chapter 2~

Kurath watched as 'Tkon'te, the most thin and lithe of all of the predators under his command, tried to wriggle his way into the largest of the collapsed burrows, but he could not get more than his head through the gap – his shoulders prevented him from going any further. Try as he might, he was never going to fit any further into the warren in the cliff-side, and it became narrower further on in. His closest friend, In'dre-an'de, whom could not be separated from him, stood nearby, stroking the grey stone of the foreboding, natural wall with his fingers. The short predator was dwarfed by 'Tkon'te's unbelievable tallness – it seemed implausible that two who were so much different in appearance and personality could become so close.

As 'Tkon'te's head emerged from the small tunnel, he turned to his leader and gestured with his hands and head that he had given up; there was no way that he was going to get into the burrow. Kurath let out an enraged growl – his plans were not going to schedule, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Arbitrators sent some fools after them – or tried themselves.

"What about the tunnels further up the mountain? Can we not use them to get inside?" He asked Ha-rauth and Sin-ae'de, whom he had asked to scout the area. The two looked at each other, before Sin-ae'de stepped forwards to speak.

"You see…" he began, "we would have to use climbing equipment to get up to that height, and the effort would leave us vulnerable to-" before Sin-ae'de could finish his sentence, In'dre-an'de whipped out his disc, aimed it at Kurath, his leader, and threw it with all of his might. Kurath remained expressionless even as it narrowly skimmed past the left side of his neck and embedded itself into a kainde amedha – an egg carrier. The acidic blood hissed and spilled onto the floor as In'dre-an'de went to retrieve his disc. "-_them_," Sin-ae'de finished finally. Kurath decided that the choice of entering the tunnels further up could not be considered an option – it would be suicide for them all, whether it was a quick and painful death, or a slow and painful one. So what else could be done?

"Why didn't we come here _before_ we made our stand? Has it all been for nothing – just because we are too big to fit through some holes in a rock?!" Nie-de growled at Kurath. His leader did not take well to the tone of his voice; Kurath backhanded his second-in-command, sending him and his mask flying in different directions.

"Because _if_ we had come here before we had made our stand, don't you think _they_ would have suspected something? The Arbitrators know that there is more than kainde amedha on this world – much more! They watch closely on any hunts that go on here, in case we discover their little secret!" He hissed, dominating the sprawling form of Nie'de on the ground. "I know what I am doing! My actions are not driven by on-the-spot impulses, but carefully thought-out decisions and calculated risks! Do not _ever_ show me disrespect again!" As Nie'de picked himself up out of the dust, he bowed his head in submission and appeared genuinely sorry for his words, but before he placed his mask back onto his face, something flashed in those penetrating yellow eyes of his…

Greeahnyau stood close to In'dre-an'de, his combi-stick gripped between both hands and his head tilted back so that he could see the sky. Poisonous fumes filled the air, causing a maelstrom out of black, starless sky and furiously swirling ooman-blood-red clouds. Sometimes, lightning forked the sky in multitudes of colour, creating their only light-source. From what Greeahnyau knew, the planet weather was always like this, but the inhabitants – the kainde amedha and other primitive species that had adjusted to their surroundings – did not seem to mind. His thoughts were not focused on the sky though, but on a solution to their problem. They had found out that machines – no matter how dexterous they were – quickly became prey to bug claws, even if they had weapons attached, so that option was out of the question. They needed something small that would fit through the tunnels and could fight back, thinking for itself. He took a look at the size of an average burrow, and when a drone swept down the tunnel towards him, he thrust his spear in until the beast stopped squirming. Looking at the size of the hole, and remembering his specifications, he came to the nearest logical and feasible conclusion.

"Humans," Greeahnyau said aloud to his brothers. They all looked at him, their masks hiding any emotion on their faces. "Humans; we could use them to get what we are after – they are small enough, after all, to enter these burrows and we all know how reactive their survival instincts are…" His suggestion seemed to be one of their only available options, but only one of them would decide if humans should be used in their plans; Kurath. They all looked to their leader, the one who would choose whether they would continue their plan and reach their goal, or abandon the idea altogether and take a different route through life, to a much lesser goal. Kurath abhorred humans far more than any of his followers ever could, and it was this factor that made the future of their agenda uncertain. There was a long, indecisive pause, and for a stretched moment, everyone thought that Kurath was going to abort their mission.

But they had need not feared. 

"I thought as much before we attacked the pyode amedha outpost," their leader replied, his voice containing tension. "And so I sent out a message to someone I know who can help us in our quest. He will be alone, and he is coming here. I hope you don't mind another joining our little group boys, but his expertise will be of a great help." Whether that help would be given willingly or unwillingly, they had yet to establish.

~End of Chapter 2~

A/N: What does everyone think of the names? I've tried to stick as closely to the kind of 'naming-style' found in the only book that I have read that contains Predator names (AvP: Prey).


	4. A Familiar Face

Chapter 2 Reviews:

Deebuggie – Hi there!  Thanks for putting me on your favourites list, and thanks for offering to beta.  I'll make sure that in future you get to read the chapters through first before I post them.  Did you know you can actually get the predator alphabet as a font?  I can't remember where I found it though… oh well.  And if I ever need some info on Predator or Alien lifestyle (I can think of one or two places in the story already) then I'll make sure to ask you.

~Chapter 3~

"So he does not know what we have done, or why he has been asked here?"  Nie'de asked Kurath, following him over the rocky landscape and down into the crevice.  From what Kurath _would_ tell him and the hints he had dropped, it seemed like this new comrade was going to join them being completely unaware of their situation.  Nie'de could not help but grin; it would be interesting to watch the reaction of the newcomer when he did find out.

"He does not know of our purpose, nor does he know of the deeds we have done; I contacted him _before_ the attack on Yrr'gen, so hopefully he has had no communication with those that are probably hunting us – if indeed they have linked us to our 'work'.  His ship was further away from this planet than ours, so he should take a little while longer to get here," Kurath replied as he walked through a naturally formed tunnel and out onto the other side.  In front of them, their ship, the Ga'ed-a'rath, stood proudly between the valley walls.  Hot, heavy rain began to fall from the sky as they crossed the now dry riverbed and returned to the ship.

            "Why all of this secrecy towards him?  Surely he must have… similar ideas to our own."

            "Quite the contrary!  He upholds the codes of honour and even teaches it to the young.  And before you ask why I would think he would be willing to help us if he abhors what we have become…" He paused. "Well, let's just say that I have my reasons."  Nie'de thought for a moment about how much of an outsider this new one was going to be to their group, and as a result of this contemplation, he burst into a malicious cackle.

            "Ah!  Are me and the boys going to have some fun with this one!"  Nie'de grinned, shaking his fists above his head with anticipation.  Kurath suddenly turned around and faced him, standing halfway up the ship's opening ramp.  His musk smelt of rage.

            "_You_, or _anyone_ else under my command will _not_ harm him!"  He growled, leaning forwards over Nie'de's face.  Nie'de wanted to ask why, but knew better to anger his leader further.  He tilted his head in acknowledgement of Kurath's words, and they continued up the ramp.

            "I was just wondering if you knew how and where we are going to get these pyode amedha from – after all, we both know that it is going to be difficult finding pyode amedha that aren't going to fight _us_, yet are willing to fight the bugs."

            "Don't worry about those details," his leader replied.  "I already have those worked out."  Kurath went towards the ship's bridge, whereas Nie'de decided he would go and get a drink in the ship's lounge.

The door opened – and Nie'de dodged to the left in time to avoid being hit in the face by a flying mug.  And standing on the tables were 'Tkon'te and Sin-ae'de, whilst In'dre-an'de and Ha-rauth stood on the ground, cheering the argument on.  Greeahnyau was not here; perhaps he was helping Kurath on the bridge, or in his quarters.  They knew that Nie'de was there, and they also knew that he found their fights entertaining; he would not interrupt the battle.  Nie'de walked up to In'dre-an'de.

            "What are they fighting over this time?"  He asked.  In'dre-an'de shrugged.

            "You know how they always like to test each other's skills and fight over anything," the shorter yautja replied.  "I think this time they weren't looking at each other 'correctly', and no other reason but that."  In'dre-an'de went back to watching the battle whilst Nie'de went to mix himself a drink.  As always with this type of fight between the two yautja, first one to fall to the floor lost.  And so they danced from table to table, slashing and kicking out at each other in an attempt to make the opponent lose his balance.  'Tkon'te jumped onto Sin-ae'de's table, pushing the younger yautja's chest and kicking him behind the legs, cusing him to hit the table hard, but he was still in the fight.  Sin-ae'de kicked 'Tkon'te's shins, but he managed to jump back to his table just in time to avoid being struck.  Sin-ae'de quickly stood back up onto his feet, and crouched, looking up at 'Tkon'te on the other table.  Both warriors were grinning away.  'Tkon'te waited for Sin-ae'de to come to him, but Sin-ae'de was patient – 'Tkon'te was not.  Sin-ae'de knew this, and used it to his advantage.  After a minute or so, 'Tkon'te gave up waiting for Sin-ae-de to strike, and lunged forwards.  Sin-ae'de, who was still crouching, kicked out with his legs whilst 'Tkon'te was still jumping though the air.  His feet collided with 'Tkon'te's chest, knocking him to the floor.  Sin-ae'de had won the fight.  The winner was congratulated, whilst 'Tkon'te skulked off to a table.  In'dre-an'de quickly joined him, and normal life resumed.  Well, what was considered normal for their caste, anyway.

                                                                       *

Greeahnyau was sitting at the communications console when Kurath strolled in.

            "Report," his leader commanded.

            "Well, there's a small shuttle coming our way," he replied.  "It doesn't appear to be able to house anymore than three grown yautja.  Weapons are minimal; nothing that can contend with ours.  Other than that, there appears to be nothing."

            "Appears to be, or isn't?"  Kurath hated answers that weren't definite; it did not put his mind at ease.

            "There… isn't."

            "How long before the shuttle reaches our position?"

            "About half of one of this planet's days."  Kurath knew for sure who was in the shuttle; the one who was going to become the newest member of their crew.  Hopefully, he would be alone as Kurath had asked.

            "Open a communications channel with the shuttle."  Greeahnyau did as he was told.

            "Who is it that approaches the planet _Koreishta_?"  Kurath asked the shuttle.  There was a moment's pause before a message returned.  There was very slight interference due to the ferocity of the storm, but the words were clear enough: "Murakht approaches Koreishta.  I come alone by the request of Kurath, leader of the ship know as the Ga'ed-a'rath."  The voice on the other end matched the name given, and he knew that Murakht could tell that it was him.

            "Welcome, Murakht.  Land your shuttle nearby and join us.  All will be explained," he greeted, and when no reply retuned, he told Greeahnyau to terminate the link.  "Now all we need to do is wait."

                                                                       *

Kurath had gathered all of his warriors in the main bay.  The shuttle would be landing at any minute now, and he wanted Murakht to see that he had order and discipline installed in all of them.  And of course, he might need all of them if there _was_ more than just Murakht on the shuttle.  They had lowered the ship's ramp, and they could hear the rhythmic engine of another ship landing nearby.  It was still raining, and a mist had settled around the ship, obscuring distant objects from sight, and making nearer ones barely visible.  Slowly, a lone figure came into view, carrying something under it's arm; probably a mask.  As the form neared, the mist grew less dense, and whilst Murakht began to walk up the ramp, his features became more defined.  Finally, he stopped a few paces in front of the assembled crew, and what they saw made all but Kurath gasp audibly at the proud warrior.  Murakht was the exact appearance of Kurath.  Murakht… was Kurath's twin.

~End of Chapter 3~


	5. Problems

~Chapter 4~

An Arbitrator was coming aboard. He had been sent to help them with the search for the Ga'ed-a'rath and it's crew, and provide them with personal knowledge of the Bad Blood's leader – a man named Kurath. The females had not been pleased to be forced to leave so early, but all three had left with more than they had come with: two of the females had mated with Nidrua, and the other one with Jechonde. The female had been Jechonde's first conquest, and so it came as no surprise that today, he was grinning from crest to crest. Of course, the females had been more generous with all of the males once they ad learned of their mission, and when they left, they had wished Nidrua's crew swift success in their assignment.

The Arbitrator was on board a larger ship, and they would have to dock together in space before their guest could join them. As was expected of Nidrua and his crew, they were all lined up on the right side in the ship's entrance in rank, from Jechonde his second-in-command, then Yojhain, Uyari, Fi'dre'en, Me'gaht Ekkudo, Trecha, Kekhani, Askar'n, Er'ed, Shar-Issq and finally Ah'ni'drin. Nidrua stood in front of them, facing the ramp and awaiting their guest at any moment. All but Yojhain were unmasked, and it annoyed Nidrua to see yet again how much Yojhain was attached to his visor. There were no rules against wearing your mask when greeting an official, but the boy looked like the odd one out when everyone else had their masks by their sides. In fact, it irritated Nidrua so much the he was going to go over to the boy and order him to take off that mask right now. He moved to do so, but it was at that precise moment that he heard footsteps up the ramp. He straightened himself out, and watched as three Arbitrators marched up to meet them. They stopped in front of Nidrua, and admired his crew lined up along their right-hand side. Nidrua and his crew all bowed their heads in unison to the three Arbitrators. The one in the middle stepped forwards.

"You must be leader Nidrua," said the Arbitrator in front of Nidrua. "I am Doressith, and these are Wroden and Besk-a'," he said, gesturing to the man on his left and right respectively. "It is Besk-a' that will be joining your party." Jechonde studied Besk-a'. He was of average height for a male, and held himself proudly. Necklace bones were hung around his neck and ankles, yellowed by time and chipped from the wear of many battles. Running vertically down the right breast of his armour were two symbols: one, the symbol of Besk-a's tutor from when he was young, and the one below that Jechonde guessed must be his own, personal symbol. Many of Besk-a's dreadlocks were heavily tinted with grey, and there was a heavy light in his eyes that spoke of wisdom. Jechonde realised that soon, Nidrua could become an Arbitrator himself. And yet he could not help but notice that Besk-a' appeared younger than Nidrua.

"And may I enquire as to why you are here, if you are not going to join our mission?" Nidrua asked Doressith in polite tones.

"Wroden and I are here to check that your ship is up-to-date – the newest speed drivers, computer systems, medical bay and so-on."

"And what will happen if it is not?"

"Then we shall upgrade it," Doressith replied patiently.

"These upgrades would take off valuable time – checking the systems alone will relinquish us of half a day."

"We are aware of that, Leader Nidrua, but it must be done for your benefit – Kurath has one of the most up-to-date ships available to yautja kind." Nidrua pulled a sour face, but acknowledged what the Arbitrator had told him.

"And besides that, we believe we know where Kurath and his crew are hiding," Besk-a' informed him. This information could turn out to be an advantage, but it was a shame that they did not know for definite where he was.

"Well, we will not gain any advantage over the Bad Bloods if we stand around here all day," Wroden announced. "Shall we set to work?"

Within moments the crew scattered and went about helping the Arbitrators up-date various parts of the ship. All three of the elders had noticed that Yojhain would not take off his mask, but had not confronted him yet to ask why – they had far more important business to attend to. As Besk-a' walked through the corridors of the _Aki're'ga_, Nidrua's ship, he could not help but reminisce over the days when he had once been a proud leader of a good crew. In his mind's eye, he could see ghosts of his younger self and the warriors that he had once commanded walking through the hallways, smiling together over their trophies and the battles to come. Those days were behind him now, and he did not regret a moment of them. _And who is to say that the future does not promise adventurous times ahead?_ He thought. Nidrua joined his side, nodding his head as a way of respect.

"Arbitrator Besk-a', out of interest and concern for my crew, I must ask how many Bad Bloods do you think we will be up against? And how well-trained – experienced – are they?"

"There are far fewer Bad Bloods than members of your crew, I can assure you that. That is unless Kurath has been recruiting more crew members. When he turned from the path, he had six underlings – but all of them are trained to a high standard and are very experienced veterans. If one of them was pitted against two of your boys, I would not be able to bet on what the outcome would be. But do not fret – I am here to give you a clear advantage over them, and I know how Kurath's mind works in these situations; I went on many hunts with him years ago."

"Do you know what made him turn away from his honour?" Besk-a' mumbled something about oomans under his breath, and turned away.

*

Murakht could tell that something was not right; he could sense it in the atmosphere of the air. All but Kurath and Nie'de crept about in his presence, and they did not walk quietly around him out of respect like the Unblooded warriors he taught did, but out of secrecy. Something was being held back from him, and he was not going to tolerate it for much longer. He sat in the lounge, feeling alienated and ignoring the stares he received from the lower ranks whilst they tried to work out if this was Murakht or their leader. After a moment of two, Nie'de managed to work out that he was Murakht, and strutted over arrogantly. Murakht could tell that this one was going to cause him trouble.

"So you are our newest crew member: Murakht the teacher of the Unblooded – Kurath's brother," Nie'de said mockingly. Murakht leaned towards him, a leering expression on his face.

"Being a teacher is one of the ultimate tests of skill – your knowledge is being passed on, and if it is not enough, then your students will suffer because of it," he spat. "I have taught many apprentices over the years, and only lost seventeen on their first hunts. How many students have you taught, _subordinate_? How many lads have been under your guidance, and reached full adult hood?" Murakht did not need an answer – he already knew it: none. However, Murakht's rebuke did not seem to faze the other warrior, and instead Nie'de changed the subject.

"Why did you come here, teacher? When you were beckoned, why did you come running, even though you were not told why you were needed?" An unnerving grin slid upon Nie'de's face. "For all you know, we could all be Bad Bloods…"

"Nie'de!" Kurath called from the doorway, an unpleasant sneer on his features. "Come here!" Grudgingly, Nie'de did as he was told. A quiet but heated conversation took place, and Kurath gave the smaller yautja a small cuff to the face. Nie'de left the room rubbing his visage as Kurath stalked over to his table.

"We need to talk," Murakht told him.

"I know – but not here. Even if I send all of the boys out of the room, they will still be able to hear from outside… and they probably will." Murakht stood up and followed Kurath out of the lounge. For those that had not watched Kurath's every move, they would have been forgiven for not knowing which twin was which.

They entered the corridor and walked in silence until they came to the _kehrite_. Kurath thought that in here, they would be able talk without being heard – the walls were thick which made it a place where most sounds did not penetrate through the walls. They walked inside. Greeahnyau and Ha-rauth were training, clashing combi-stick against combi-stick, attempting to breach the other's defence and bring their opponent down. Both had good movement, especially in their footwork, and Murakht could not help but feel impressed by Kurath's hunters. When the two battling warriors realised that their leader was present, they immediately stopped and lowered their heads towards him – though they did not know which one was 'him'.

"I want both of you to leave. Now. You can come back later," Kurath commanded. Without a word spoken, Ha-rauth and Greeahnyau slithered past them and out of the training-room, and the moment the door closed behind them, they both pressed their ears against the door, awaiting what they knew would be the conversation that would reveal to Murakht what they really were.

"You do not know why you have been brought here, or why I told you to be careful about transmissions, but now I will tell you: I want you to train up a group of pyode amedha so that they can be used for my purposes," Kurath stated rather bluntly. It took a moment for the information that Murakht had been given to sink in, but when it did, he let out a short, sharp bark.

"I'm leaving," he told his brother, his voice portraying his seriousness. Kurath put an arm out to stop him, and told him, "You can't." The moment the last word left Kurath's mouth there was a terrible silence.

"What – have – you – _done_!?!"

It was in that instant that Murakht realised Kurath's hatred of humanity could have driven him past the boundaries of society, taking his crew with him. And then it dawned on him, that just by obeying his brother's call, he was most probably considered a Bad Blood now also. No! He was not going to let that happen! He would kill Kurath, salvaging whatever honour still remained in his heart from being completely consumed, and would return to his ship! He was not going to lose his honour because his brother was a fool!

Murakht moved to grab the combi-stick from his utility belt, but Kurath had been anticipating his move and using his own combi-stick, he swiped at Murakht's feet, knocking him to the ground before he had a chance to react. Kurath placed the combi-stick's blade near the centre of Murakht's skull.

"I know you, Murakht; and I know that you are weak. You may uphold the codes of honour, but I don't think that you would be able to go through with killing your own brother… or yourself," Kurath replied with a calm but spiteful voice. He acknowledged that Murakht might prefer the thought of killing himself than helping him in his plans. Kurath knew what had kept Murakht alive so long, when others had recklessly rushed into their deaths for honour; it was his fear – of death – that had kept him alive. And because of this fear, he would not return to his ship for fear of being executed, and he would not kill himself; Kurath had him trapped. "Now you will obey me, or you shall learn first-hand of the cruelties I am capable of!" He hissed. "You were always an excellent teacher, Murakht, but I was the exceptional pupil – you taught and never learned new things, whereas – being the pupil – I have learnt more of the deceit that surrounds our existence than you ever will!"

"Teachers can learn new lessons too, Kurath." Murakht was about to prove him wrong when 'Tkon'te barged through the door. He did not know which yautja was which, but the panic in his eyes made it clear that it did not matter to whom he spoke to.

"Leader! You must come at once! There is a ship – a ship approaching!" Kurath abandoned his fight with Murakht and ran towards the bridge, taking no notice in Ha-rauth and Greeahnyau standing outside the door, listening in. Within a matter of seconds, he was standing in front of the ships controls as they bleeped in warning, and staring out of the window at a distant ship that was coming ever closer and closer by the heartbeat. The Arbitrators were here.

~End of Chapter 4~

A/N: Yes, I do realise that there has been a lot of talking and nothing exceptionally exciting going on, but I _do_ promise you action, (it _is_ Aliens/Predator after all) and lots of it. Hopefully soon.


	6. Clashing Blades

~Chapter 5~

"Nie'de!"  Kurath called, knowing as he turned around that his second-in-command would be behind him already.  Whenever there was bad news, Nie'de was always close by – in more ways than one.  "Go take 'Tkon'te, In'dre-an'de and Greeahnyau and make sure the entrance is secure.  Ha-rauth!  Sin-ae'de!  Go to the armoury and get a net and a _drkhrun between the two of you!"  The two yautja warriors in the room bowed their heads in acknowledgement of their leader's commands before sprinting to the armoury.  The drkhrun was Sin-ae'de's favourite weapon due to its size and power.  He could not understand why his leader wanted it though – it was a ranged weapon, not recommended for use in the close-combat that would undoubtedly ensue.  But Sin-ae-de knew better than to question his cunning leader – especially when their preparation time was limited.  __And now to make sure my altruistic alter-ego does not interfere with my tactics, Kurath thought.  He stalked back down the corridor that he had come from and saw his brother standing just a little inside the kehrite's doorway._

            "What's happeni-" Before Murakht could finish his sentence, Kurath grabbed the door's frame and inelegantly kicked his brother back inside using his foot.  Murakht fell to the ground.

            "We'll talk later," Kurath sneered before shutting and locking the kehrite's door.

                                                                       *

Murakht picked himself up off the floor.  He checked that the door would not open for him before he extended his wrist blades and jammed them into the wall.  Sparks flickered.  The wall's door-lock console made a disgruntled sound.  Murakht began moving his fist around, looking for something in particular to connect his blade with.  It was time to show Kurath that even teachers could learn new tricks.

                                                                       *

Besk'a looked out at the ship in front of them.  It had not opened communications, and was heading away from their ship.  In his mind, there was little doubt that this was the Ga'ed-a'rath, but he had to make sure.

            "Scan for it's name," he demanded.  Me'gaht did as he was told.

            "It has none – it has been removed!"  He replied.  Every ship had a name imprint – it was for easy identification, and the name imprints could never become corrupted unless they had been tampered with.

            "Then this is the ship that we are searching for," Nidrua told him.  "Disable it's engines!"  Within seconds, the Aki're'ga let out three large blue pulsing balls.  One missed and flew off into space, never to be seen again.  The other two hit the ship, enveloped it and turned into electric streaks before it vanished entirely.  The Ga'ed-a'rath stopped; its engines had been paralysed.  "Prepare to board!"  The young warriors ran to the opening ramp, ready to face the Bad Bloods when the ships joined.  Nidrua turned to Me'gaht.  "As pilot of the ship, you must remain here," he told him.  Me'gaht looked disappointed, but he knew even before Nidrua said anything that he would have to stay.  Nidrua turned to the Arbitrator.  "Are you ready?"

            "I won't become any readier," Besk'a replied with a look of grim determination of his face.  It was time to cleanse these Bad Bloods from the world of the living.

                                                                       *

Nie'de leaned casually against the wall, cleaning his combi-stick and wrist-blades.  The weapons did not need to be cleaned, but it was something he did out of habit before a battle.  They had gathered in the main hallway where there was the most space to fight.

"Where are Ha-rauth and Sin-ae'de?  They're taking their sweet time getting here!"  'Tkon'te growled to In'dre-an'de.  His friend cackled.

            "Perhaps they are too cowardly to fight and have left us to deal with the Arbitrators," he replied.  The two shared a grin whilst their leader's face darkened.  They _were taking too long, and soon battle would be upon them.  The ship came to a sudden stop and they were thrown about, colliding with walls and falling through doors whilst electric-like streaks covered the floors and walls.  Nie'de received a shock from one of these, and with a hissed curse, he jumped back onto his feet.  Greeahnyau had been buried underneath both In'dre-an'de and Kurath, and was currently struggling to breathe whilst using what breath he had to make use of vivid swearwords.  The others picked themselves up as quickly as Nie'de had, and as Greeahnyau stood solidly on his feet, a loud clanking sound was heard as the other ship joined with theirs.  The onslaught would be upon them shortly.  They readied their burners and combi-sticks.  Footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door.  It began to open, and Greeahnyau thrust his combi-stick through the gap.  It made contact and a voice cried out in shock – a voice too young to be an Arbitrator.  The door opened fully, to reveal the Greeahnyau had only nicked the skin of a young warrior – it had only caused a small trickle of blood.  The Bad Bloods had little time to react before the warriors from the other ship rushed into their own, brandishing their own combi-sticks and wrist-blades.  They were going to attempt to kill the Bad Bloods honourably – how noble, but their notions of honour did not mean that Kurath's crew would fight them honourably._

They clashed in combat, weapon against weapon, warrior against the ill-reputed.  They could not see the emotion behind each others' mask, but they could feel it and smell it – the oily scent of rage and hate.  'Tkon'te found himself up against two opponents – both in front of him.  The warriors were young – probably only a few years blooded; inexperienced next to him.  They worked together in an attempt to bring him down, moving to strike at his head and feet simultaneously.  'Tkon'te jumped and raised his combi-stick to block the other attack.  After it had been deflected he jumped to the side, swinging the blade out to hit them.  They jumped back, but each received a small graze across the chest.  'Tkon'te crouched, ready to spring a charge.  He could not help but cackle to himself – he had never faced another yautja as a true opponent before, and this had to be one of the most exhilarating moments of his entire life.

In'dre-an'de wrestled with one of the oldest of the invading warriors, who also appeared to be one of the strongest.  They battled back and forth, sometimes ducking the swings of friends and enemies alike immersed in their own struggles.  Their wrist blades dug into each others' arm, spilling blood onto the floor which they would slip in every now and again.  The invader tried to trip him up, but In'dre-an'de used his weight and strength to push the warrior off balance, toppling him to the ground.  Their struggle continued on the floor.  He pushed his blade close to the younger one's neck, focusing on getting this kill over and done with so that he could focus upon another.  But the younger one was more skilled than he had thought.  The invader twisted his own arm and blade and it dug deep into the centre of In'dre-an'de's stomach, producing a blood-curdling howl.

Greeahnyau held his disk in his one hand and had his wrist-blades in the other, poised to strike at the two warriors.  One lowered its head and charged him with youthful stupidity.  Unsurprisingly, he managed to dodge this, and ran the disk along the warrior's neck and spine as he passed as a warning: Greeahnyau wanted to get some fun out of these two before he killed them, and he was not going to get any if they were going to make moves where he could easily breach their defences.  The second warrior was more promising – he waited for Greeahnyau to attack him, and his parrying skills were perfect.  Greeahnyau became so absorbed in his attack, he did not notice the other warrior that had charged him had recovered.  He took out his combi-stick and slashed into Greeahnyau's leg muscle.  Greeahnyau gasped, and the other warrior dug his wrist-blades into his shoulder.  He pulled forwards, taking the warrior off of his feet and shoving him into a wall.  He turned and threw his disk at the one who had damaged his leg.  It missed, embedding itself in the wall behind him.  Greeahnyau took out his combi-stick, slashing at the warrior in front and behind him.  It did not make contact, but the two invaders backed off for long enough for Greeahnyau to recall his disk.  It returned, slicing deeply into the side of the warrior that had charged him earlier.  He was done playing now; it was time to get serious.

Nie'de looked at the three warriors surrounding him.  It was going to be a great test of his skill to stay alive.  One dived at him with his wrist-blades, but Nie'de ducked just in time.  The two others tried to pounce on him, and he leapt up and grabbed hold of the ship's arcane doorways, using this hand hold to hoist himself up and kick one of the warriors in the face.  The warrior fell backwards and staggered about, trying to regain his balance.  For the moment, he was out of the battle.  Nie'de twisted and fell back down, striking his fist against the jaw of the warrior on his right.  The one of the left charged him, and Nie'de purposely fell to the floor and kicked his legs out from underneath them.  He rolled back onto his feet, grabbing his disk and dancing back and forth with the two fighters whilst their comrade recovered.  The two became three, and Nie'de let his disk fly at the one whilst using his burner to get a cheap shot in at one of the others.  The burner shot made contact with the middle warrior's chest, causing a shallow flesh wound that stank of fused flesh.  Blood tricked down the younger combatant's chest, but he continued the fight, his rage intensified by Nie'de's dishonourable act.  At the same time, his disc had been deflected and was now heading straight back at him.  He caught it in his hand and moved away from the three whilst he changed to his combi-stick.  His footing was faultless; his skill visible for all to see.  Nie'de fought in such a way that his teacher would have been proud to call him his own – had he not been a Bad Blood.  Kurath knew that Nie'de was a trouble maker, but he also recognised that this skill, which far exceeded his ability to cause conflict, was in very few warriors of his age.  As long as Nie'de did as his leader told him, Nie'de would serve Kurath's cause well.

Ekkudo, Er'ed and Askar'n stood on the sidelines of the battle, unable to find a place where they could fight without getting in the way of their brethren.  They counted the number of Bad Bloods in front of them: five.

            "Aren't there meant to be two others? I thought that Besk'a said that there were seven altogether," Er'ed said to the other two.

            "He did.  They must be hiding somewhere else on the ship," Askar'n replied.  "How about we go search for them – have a little fun of our own?"  They crept around the fighting and came to some of the arch-like doorways that led away from the main hallway area to other parts of the ship.  Suddenly, two Bad Bloods leapt out from the other side of the door, netting Ekkudo before he had a chance to react.  Sin-ae'de cackled like a madman, pulling the trigger on the drkhrun.  A large ball of topaz coloured plasma leapt from the device, jerking Sin-ae'de backwards.  Er'ed and Askar'n hauled Ekkudo out of the way.  Allies and enemies alike leapt out of the path of the projectile as it hurtled across the room, through the door and into the other ship.

                                                                       *

A huge deafening boom shook the ship and caused Me'gaht to fall from his seat.  He tried to stand up on shaky legs.

            "What the fuck was that?!"

                                                                       *

Kurath's eyes looked straight into the Arbitrator's.  The ancient's hair was filled with much grey, but he still looked strong enough to fight.  And that was exactly what Kurath had in mind.  In unison they drew their combi-sticks, each with their own unique markings that told of their owner's history.  Their blades became a part of them as they began their deadly dance.  Centuries of skill clashed against centuries of skill.  Unlike the younger yautja, their fight was not determined by how many hits they could get in and how severe they were, but how long they could endure the other's strength and ability before they became too weak to keep parrying the blows.  Rage was a factor that aided them, just as it did their subordinates, but they did not allow it to cause them to make clumsy moves.

            "You made a mistake interfering in my affairs, Arbitrator," Kurath sneered.

            "Oh, I'm not an Arbitrator just yet," the other yautja replied.  This gave Kurath a small surprise – if this was not the Arbitrator, then where was he?  Was there one with them at all?

                                                                       *

Besk'a surveyed the damage that the drkhrun had done to the Aki're'ga.  The whole wall had a massive hole through it and it was burnt and fused at the sides.  Here and there, a wisp of smoke or steam dissipated.  It was surface damage only – it would not cause the ship any harm to functionality, but Besk'a hoped for Nidrua's sake that another blast that powerful would not make contact with the ship.  Stealthily, he made his way onto the Ga'ed-a'rath.  The fight on board was in full motion, and no one had noticed him slip aboard – they were all too involved in their own fights.  He slithered through the room without anyone noticing, and made his way to the Ga'ad-a'rath's bridge.

~End of Chapter 5~

A/N:  The drkhrun is basically a huge plasma cannon – like a rocket launcher.  Although the name is something I've come up with, I know I've seen the thing somewhere before – on the front of one of the comic books or something.


	7. Shadows Revealed

Chapter 5 Reviews:

Deebuggie – It's good to hear that you think it's coming along well!  This chapter took forever to get done, didn't it? O.o  Thanks for the promotion!

~Chapter 6~

Besk'a crept through the hallways with his combi-stick in hand. He had not had the time to count the number of Bad Bloods that the Aki're'ga's crew were fighting, but he thought that they were all in the main room. Still, he was not going to take any chances and be caught unaware. He stopped when he noticed movement in a corridor ahead of him, and waited for the unsuspecting foe. He watched as the yautja ran down another passageway without even noticing him. The man fitted the description of Kurath. It seemed like Besk'a was going to have the honour and pleasure of killing the Bad Blood leader.

*

Kurath noticed a shadow in the corner of his eye slither past him. It had not been his imagination: he was going to investigate.

"Nie'de!" He called. His second-in-command had been relieved of one of his opponents by one of Ha-rauth's nets. Knowing immediately that his leader wanted him to take his place he practically bounded over, immediately clashing blades with their adversaries' leader. With Kurath's mind content in the knowledge that Nie'de could handle the situation, he slipped through the other fighters to go and make sure that the mystery person he had seen was not going to cause them any more trouble.

*

He could see the bridge door in front of him, sealed by another one of his brother's lock commands. It had not stopped Murakht in the kehrite, and it certainly was not going to stop him now. He stabbed his blades into the wall, just like before, and he was careful when moving the wires and machinery. After a moment, the door opened part way, allowing a yautja to slip in through the gap sideways. He was so preoccupied in his task, he did not hear the soft footsteps behind him, nor the even quieter ones behind those. On the bridge he searched for the power shut-down controls. The Ga'ed-a'rath's layout was different from his own ship, so it took him a while to find what he was looking for. Finally, he found the panel, and, pressing the buttons in the correct sequence, the Ga'ed-a'rath powered down, the lights slowly dimming with the power, until Murakht was in complete darkness. Only life-support and gravity controls remained functional, and they could only be taken off-line with Kurath's security passwords. Perhaps this would confuse and worry Kurath and his crew long enough for the invading yautja to take advantage. Something in the darkness moved, and Murakht pulled back out of pure instinct. He was not quick enough though – and a blade sliced across his neck. He chocked and put a talon to the wound; it was deep, but apparently not deep enough to kill him. He looked at the man whom had attacked him – an Arbitrator!

"Hold still, and I will make your passing as swift as possible," the Arbitrator sneered.

"Wait! Y-you don't understand!" The Arbitrator raised his combi-stick and took a swipe, but Murakht managed to duck just in time. "I am Murakht – not Kurath!"

"I do not care which Bad Blood you are – I will still put an end to you!"

"But I should not even be here! I was tricked! Please – let me fight with you, and go back with your crew!" The Arbitrator paused, confused as to whether this was a Bad Blood trick, or if Murakht was telling the truth. So far, the warrior had not lifted his weapons – not even to defend himself. Somehow, the name sounded familiar from one of his briefings: was Murakht the name of a teacher, and a brother of Kurath? "Who are y-"

"-Look out!" Murakht interrupted, but his warning came too late. A spear had been launched from behind the other side of the door, and it ripped straight through the Arbitrator's body, embedding itself into one of the consoles.  Another spear quickly followed through the same orifice. The Arbitrator gasped and clutched a hand to his wound, turning to look at who had done it. Kurath appeared in the doorway, his face a mask of malevolence for them both. In his hand was a speargun, reloaded and ready to finish off the job.

"Did you think you could avoid me, Arbitrator?" He growled. "Did you think that we would allow you to so easily defeat us – to end our plans? Soon, everyone will see your kind for the lying bastards that they are – and I will inflict _our_ revenge!" Murakht moved between the Arbitrator and his Bad Blood brother, his blood flowing down his neck and chest. "I don't know how you managed to get out of the kehrite, and I do not care. I will deal with you later." Murakht readied his combi-stick, ready to defend the Arbitrator against Kurath. The whole ship shook backwards and forwards violently, and Murakht fell onto Kurath. Besk'a was losing a lot of blood, and was in no condition to fight either of the men on the floor. He knew what he had to do, and he had to do it quickly. Whilst Kurath and Murakht wrestled each other and attempted to get back onto their feet, Besk'a slipped out of the bridge, and back towards the main battle.

*

The Aki're'ga had taken another hit from the drkhrun's plasma bolt, but it had clipped part of the Ga'ed-a'rath in the process of sailing through the inter-connection of the two ships. As a result, the Ga'ed-a'rath had shaken almost as much as the Aki're'ga.

"Get that drkhrun!" Nidrua commanded to Askar'n and Ekkudo, who had just freed himself from one of the net gun's nets. The two Bad Bloods holding the drkhrun and the net gun began to back away, whilst the drkhrun charged for another shot. Ekkudo and Askar'n moved in, expecting to be netted once more, but when the Bad Blood pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

"Shit! I'm out of nets!" He cursed, as Ekkudo and Askar'n ran in. He did not manage to change weapons in time, and the two warriors bundled onto the Bad Bloods. The drkhrun fell harmlessly to the floor, whilst a wrestling match began between the opposing sides over who would claim it.

Just then, Besk'a staggered around the corner and into the main room.  One of the Bad Bloods threw a bomb into the wall by his head, and within seconds it exploded in Besk'a's face. All eyes were on him as he grasped hold of the door and collapsed.  He would not be able to fight, or even get himself across the room and back into the Aki're'ga. The Bad Bloods began to fight with even more vigour, as the spirits of Nidrua's crew waned. Whilst fighting the Bad Blood's second-in-command, Nidrua took a quick about him: his warriors had taken the most damage, and to continue here would mean the death of every one of the youths under his command. He was not going to let that happen – not today.

"Retreat! Grab the Arbitrator and retreat!" Nidrua called. Yojhain and Uyari were the first two to pull back. Both had some wounds, but they managed to provide covering fire for their brothers. Askar'n had managed to get himself onto his feet, and, grabbing the drkhrun, he attempted to toss it further down the hallway, away from Bad Blood talons. The heavy weapon flew through the air for about a metre, before it clunked to the ground. He wrestled Ekkudo from the iron claps of the Bad Bloods, and along with Fi'dre'n, they carefully carried Besk'a between the three of them. Trecha and Kekhani followed, carrying a netted Shar-Issq onto the Aki're'ga. Ah'ni'drin, Jechonde and Nidrua were the last to return to the ship, backing away, never taking their eyes off of the battle-ready Bad Bloods. Their damage was also heavy, but instead of shooting, some took their time to heal themselves. Nie'de hissed and pulled out his speargun.

"You aren't going to be getting away _that_ unscathed!" He cried, and fired the spear into Jechonde's chest. Nidrua reached over to block the weapon – and was hit instead. He roared with pain. Jechonde and Ah'ni'drin pulled their leader back onto their ship. With some trouble, the ships disconnected, and a wrecked Aki're'ga fled from firing distance of the Ga'ed-a'rath.

Nidrua and Jechonde bent over Besk'a. The Arbitrator was taking short, sharp breaths and his face revealed how laboured breathing was. They examined the wound. It went straight through his body, and seemed to scathe some of his digestive organs. Besk'a had lost a lot of blood. Nidrua had seen this kind of reaction before; he knew what was going to follow. No medical device could heal him: Besk'a was dying. He pulled Nidrua closer to him, and whispered into his face.

"M-Murakht… is in-in-o…" his grip slipped, and his head fell back heavily. His half-closed eyes were glazed over. Besk'a had lost his battle with the Black Warrior. Nidrua stood up.

"What do you think he meant to say?" Fi'dre'n asked his leader.

"Perhaps it was a warning! Perhaps he meant to say 'Murakht' – whoever he may be – 'is in… onboard the Ga'ed-a'rath'!" Uyari shook his head and tried to think of something better.

"Whatever he was trying to say, we will only be able to guess at his true meaning," Nidrua told them all.

*

Kurath kicked his brother across the floor.

"How dare you! How dare you choose to defy your _own bother_! To – to allow them to try and kill me! Do _you_ think they will take you back? _ They_ think you are a Bad Blood now – and they aren't going to change their minds either!" Whilst Murakht tried to keep conscious, Kurath moved over to the console and put the power back on for the ship. Whilst the ship processed his commands, Kurath turned back to his brother and stood over him, his supremacy clear in his stance. "You will do my bidding – you have no other choice!" As dark shapes took the forms of Kurath's crew members and light returned to the ship, Murakht's vision darkened as he lost conciousness.

*

Me'gaht sat in front of the console, dark and dreary thoughts seeping through his mind. The Arbitrator was dead, and their leader was going to have to satisfy the other Arbitrators with a good and valid reason. Otherwise, they could be taken off hunting the Bad Bloods. And that was something their leader was not going to be happy about. Of course, he would have to tell the Arbitrators that Besk'a was dead first.

The console next to him began to bleep, and Me'gaht realised that it was a message. He brought it up onto one of the visors in front of him. It was for Besk'a, and Besk'a only. Me'gaht looked around. No one else was on the bridge, and the doors were closed. He reached over and tapped a command into the computer. No one would mind if he had a peek…

He read the message though. It did not seem to make any sense.

"What are you doing?" Me'gaht jumped out of his seat and tried to turn around to face the voice of his leader. A talon clamped him back down into the seat, preventing him from making any quick escapes. Nidrua read it through himself, then he turned and looked at Me'gaht. A deep growl emerged from his throat. "Get rid of it – and don't tell anyone what you've read!" Nidrua stormed off the bridge, and before Me'gaht deleted it, he read it through one last time:

_Kill the Bad Bloods before they show the Aki're'ga's crew too much. Do not let the Crew of the Aki're'ga follow them to Earth or Koreishta. They must not discover our old secret._

~End of Chapter 6~


	8. Preparations

A/N: **_Bugger!_** It looks like fanfiction.net wants to mess with **_all_** of my story layout, instead of just most of it. Arrgh! Even the strs that I use for scene changes have disappeared! Stress levels rising! ..Points finger at fanfiction.net.. if you have any trouble reading because of the layout, it's _their_ fault!

Chapter 7

The blade was poised for the centre of Murakht's chest. His eyes were closed as the cold metal touched his skin. He waited for it to pierce his heart. The moment never came – he could not do it. Murakht threw the blade across the floor and roared with anguish. Why could he not end it? It would be better for him to take his own life than to be considered a Bad Blood – even if only he knew that wasn't the case. Why couldn't he be as brave as the others – the daring souls that had passed through his life? Sitting cross-legged on the floor alone, he pondered this, before throwing the thought away completely: it would not help him to escape. His so-called 'brother', Kurath, had locked him in some of the ship's quarters but left him the sword, knowing that even if it was in his possession, he was too weak psychologically to kill himself. The door to the quarters began to open, and the hideous, sneering features of Nie'de greeted him. Nie'de glanced at the sword, and smiled grimly.

"Kurath wants you. Come with me," he commanded. For a moment, Murakht considered stabbing Nie'de in the back with the blade… but then thought better of it. Slowly he stood up, and complied.

.........

Nidrua leant against the wall in his quarters and let out the longest, most ragged breath of his entire life. He was alone: he would never show such weakness in front of his crew.

"What now? What must be done now?" He said to himself, sighing dejectedly. What had the Arbitrators' cryptic message to Besk'a meant? There was only one way to find out… but dare he risk going against the will of the Arbitrators? It risked everything he had dreamed of – an honourable retirement. But something had to be done. He stalked out of his quarters and immediately came across his second-in-command walking down the hallway.

"Jechonde!" Nidrua commanded. "I want you to take Kekhani and Me'gaht to the planet Korishta. Scout around; see what you can find. If you find any traces of yautja activity I want it reported. Take the spare ship – and all of your weapons. You have three days. Find both of them now, and if you come across Me'gaht, send him to me – though I expect he's on the bridge. I'm going there right now." Jechonde bowed and left without even asking any questions._ Now, the rest will come with me to Earth – if indeed that is where the Bad Bloods are heading. I cannot spare any more manpower._ Nidrua continued down the corridor in the opposite way of Jechonde, coming across Ah'ni'drin and Shar-Issq as he did so.

"Leader Nidrua!" Ah'ni'drin called, walking after him. "Is it true that the Bad Bloods are heading towards Earth? The pyode amedha _home world_?"

"You gather information rather fast, Ah'ni'drin," Nidrua replied without answering the question directly.

"Why are they going there? To slaughter oomans? Wouldn't it better for them to lay low whilst we are trying to find them?" Shar-Issq asked. Nidrua growled, frustrated.

"I don't know," Their leader muttered. Ah'ni'drin and Shar-Issq stopped, continuing the conversation between themselves. Nidrua began to get the feeling that these Bad Bloods had more in mind than just bloodthirsty carnage.

He entered the bridge, and found that Me'gaht was already in there. It was no big surprise, considering he _was_ the ship's pilot.

"I don't suppose Jechonde has given you any orders, has he?" Nidrua asked him.

"I haven't seen him since I was in the lounge."

"Was Kekhani in there?"

"Yes," Me'gaht replied. Then that was where Jechonde had gone.

"Me'gaht…you're going to Koreishta with Jechonde and Kekhani." Me'gaht was deathly silent. He had been dreading that this might happen, ever since he and his leader had read the Arbitrators' message. Why did the Arbitrators want them to stay away from Koreishta? "Since Jechonde does not know anything – and I have no intentions of telling him we read a message specifically for Besk'a – I need you to be on guard even more than them." Me'gaht acknowledged his leader with a nod of his head. "Well? Aren't you going to speak? Say something!"

"Yes Leader Nidrua!" At that point, Jechonde walked into the room with Kekhani.

"And at the _first_ sign of trouble, you are to _leave_!" He told them all, the stress evident in his voice. He did not know what the Arbitrators would do to them if they were found there. "Now you may all go." There was a flicker of a second when Kekhani's eyes and Jechonde's met. Neither knew what was happening, nor whether any information was being withheld from them. The moment passed before Nidrua could even challenge its existence. His three subordinates bowed their heads and left the bridge. Now, the rest of them had to keep on following the Bad Bloods.

.........

Kurath was waiting for him in the kehrite. Beside him was a pile of equipment, far smaller than what would fit the average warrior. On closer inspection, he noticed that the equipment was training equipment for young bloods. But the Ga'ed-a'rath was not a training vessel.

"How did you-"

"Never mind how I came by it," Kurath interrupted. So, stealing was another one of his crimes then. "This is the equipment that you are going to use to train the oomans with. It has been altered so that the power settings can be changed."

"I don't see any wrist-blades, or combi-sticks."

"Have you ever seen a pyode amedha in close combat?" No. He had not.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why all of this?"

"That's not of your concern."

"I'm going to train them, aren't I? You should at least tell me what for!" Kurath grinned malevolently. "You'll see. All you need to know is that they will be facing scores of kainde amedha."

"Do you honestly think that they'll be able to face any kainde amedha after a few days' training?"

"No – but time is short. They'll have to make do."

"I can't perform miracles Kurath!"

"You'll have to if you value your life!" Murakht hated being pushed into things he did not want to do – especially dishonourable things, and _especially_ by his brother.

"And what if I no longer value my life?" Murakht sneered.

"Don't try my patience Murakht; you know how short it is!" Kurath hissed. At that moment, Nie'de quietly walked into the kehrite. He looked at both of them, and sensing the atmosphere in the room, he could tell that there was a good possibility of a fight breaking out. And if a fight was going to break out, Nie'de surely did not want to miss it. Casually, he folded his arms and leant against the doorway, preventing the door from closing. This would ensure that any of the other yautja would be able to hear and see the argument as well. This only further angered the two brothers.

"What do _you_ want?" Kurath raged.

"The other ship is gaining on us again," he replied matter-of-factly.

"See? You won't be able to avoid the Arbitrators' wrath forever!" Murakht shouted at Kurath.

"Yes I _will_!" He shouted back, head-butting his brother. Murakht manoeuvred out of the way just before the collision, and hit Kurath square in the jaw with an upper-cut in return. Nie'de was not going to be disappointed. The two locked bodies and wrestled across the whole of the room, equally matched in terms of strength and skill. Ha-rauth poked his head through the door, ran off, and appeared moments later with the rest of the ship's crew, all of them cheering, rattling spears and stamping feet for Kurath. The two brothers tried to trip each other up, succeeding on some occasions and failing on others. They rolled and tumbled over each other on the floor, until none of the other crew members could tell which was which. One of them grabbed the other's throat and squeezed tightly. Did Murakht have Kurath – or did Kurath have Murakht? The cheering turned into shrieking howls as choking began to ensue. The bothers tripped over and kicked the pieces of equipment across the room, adding to the mayhem. They twisted and turned, digging claws on hands and feet into any skin that made itself vulnerable to attack. The violence rose again when claws slashed across necks and wrists, but never fatal enough to kill. Neon green blood was dripping down their muscles and onto the floor, causing feet to lose their grip for less than a moment. The more the brothers wrestled about, the more the glowing green covered the floor. Greeahnyau stopped his cheering and turned to Nie'de.

"I don't think that they're going to stop anytime soon… and we need both of them _alive_," he commented. "We need to make them stop." This soured Nie'de's mood.

"And do you know how we are going to get _them_ apart? Do _you_ want to get between them and stop it? I'll tell you now that you won't be popular with the others." Greeahnyau looked at the brawling twins and decided that an answer was not necessary. Nie'de suddenly perked up when he devised his own method of separating the two yautja. A devious grin spread across his face and he vanished down the hallway. Greeahnyau looked out to see what Nie'de was up to – and paid dearly for taking his eyes off the battle. Murakht and Kurath charged into him, crushing his against the wall under their combined weight. Greeahnyau couldn't even yell out. The others were enjoying this entertainment far too much to help him – and were too afraid for what might happen to them to go anywhere near the brothers.

Nie'de reappeared in the doorway with a net gun and an expression bordering on dementia. By now Murakht and Kurath had moved back into the centre of the kehrite, giving Greeahnyau time to gasp for breath. Neither had noticed what he was holding. He pointed the gun at the two warring brothers.

"Murakht! Kurath!" He called. They briefly glared in his direction – it was the moment that Nie'de had been waiting for. He released one net at each of them, trapping them separately.

"Well, that's one way of dealing with them," Greeahnyau admitted. The others booed and hissed at him, whilst Kurath and Murakht struggled to break free, throwing as many insults at each other as at Nie'de. "Did you have to net both of them?"

"Can you tell them apart?" Nie'de asked searching with his eyes for any distinguishing scars.

"No," Greeahnyau muttered.

"Well then." Nie'de swelled with arrogant pride; not only had he disrespected his leader, but that sickeningly prissy brother of his too. "Release them once they've calmed down," he ordered. It did not look like that was going to happen any time soon. "…Then we can try to distinguish which one is which."

.........

Jechonde, Me'gaht and Kekhani neared the planet Koreishta. None knew what they were meant to be looking for, or where to begin – and Koreishta had a wide area to cover.

"Where do we start?" Kekhani asked Jechonde during a yawn. He had shared the piloting duty with me'gaht, and had received even less sleep than the true pilot. "It's not as though we have very long."

"Then we'd better find something quickly and work fast!" Jechonde retorted angrily. Three days was not going to be long enough at all – but if Nidrua could have spared them any more time, he would have.

"If we scan for anything unusual, we can start our search from there," Me'gaht replied, hoping that the stress he was feeling did not show in his voice.

"Such as what?" Kekhani growled, stifling another yawn.

"This is meant to be a planet devoid of any technology, yes?" Jechonde told them.

"I think so," Me'gaht mumbled.

"Then scan for traces of technology." Jechonde folded his arms and sighed. In his opinion, they weren't going to find anything – but Me'gaht was not as sure about that as he was. "How long will it take?"

"On a planet this size? A quarter of a day." Jechonde growled again. He was growing impatient; he wanted to be helping Nidrua pursue the Bad Bloods and he was worried that the strength of the enemy could overpower the remaining crew. Three seemed too many to spare for a planet that seemed to hold no importance to their mission. "Well, we'd better make the most of our time," Me'gaht murmured dismally. Kekhani already was – he had fallen asleep.

End of Chapter 7


	9. Silent Remembrance

Chapter 7 Reviews:-

Amouthea – Thanks for the review! If it weren't for you, this would have been updated _a lot_ later. Believe me. Sorry that it's been a while since I updated – I'm taking my time with this one so that it won't turn out bad! -.-; Enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

Whilst the scanners had been processing the information, Jechonde had taken Kekhani with him to scout about the area close to the ship.

As they approached the planet, they discovered it was a rocky and barren environment, and the Predators had not yet seen any signs of life. But that did not mean that there was none; all of the time that they were there, Kekhani could feel something watching him...

"So what have the scanners found?" Jechonde asked Me'gaht when he returned to the ship. Me'gaht scratched his head, shaking it negatively at the results displayed before him.

"The scanners say that there are metals not native to this planet on the large, south-east continent. In this area there is a surge of energy, which I highly doubt comes from any natural source. Where's Kekhani?"

"I left him outside."

"Go get him – I'm going to take the ship closer to the energy source and we can't leave him behind."

"Ancestors forbid," Jechonde sighed under his breath teasingly.

* * *

Kekhani knew that there was something out there with him... he could _feel_ it. He scanned his surroundings carefully in one vision mode, and then switched to another and did the same before repeating the procedure once more.

"Kekhani!" Jechonde's voice called from the ship. Kekhani turned to Jechonde while trying to keep aware of his environment. "We're leaving! Get back here immediately!" Kekhani jumped down from his vantage point and jogged towards the ship. Meanwhile, Jechonde noticed something dark sneaking up on the young Predator – and fast. "Kekhani! Kekhani run!" Jechonde shouted, aiming his spear-gun for the dark object.

Kekhani did as he was told, strafing left and right, never once looking behind him, but listening intensely to the sounds underneath the howling wind and keeping his wrist-blade ready. When Jechonde got a clear shot, he fired once, twice, three times... Kekhani raced past him onto the ship, then stopped and turned to look at his pursuer. There was... nothing. Jechonde stepped out a little further and looked about him. He hissed; it must have been the wind in the sand that he had been targeting all along.

"What is it?" Me'gaht called from his pilot's seat.

"Nothing!" Kekhani responded.

"Then we can leave now. Step away from the landing ramp!" Why had Nidrua sent them away to such a desolate place? What was it that made Koreishta so important?

* * *

The repairs to the Aki're'ga were going laboriously slow. Although they could still move, it was nowhere near a speed to match the Ga'ed-a'rath. Every crew member that Nidrua had, was working diligently to fix the problems; apart from Trecha, who was using his limited knowledge of piloting to keep on course with their target. Shar-Issq entered with a tool kit and opened a panel near Trecha's feet.

"Look out for any black holes or comets!" Shar-Issq commented snidely.

"You idiot!" The temporary pilot rebuked. "Once again, you're spouting worthless babble; comets are only found in solar systems! And Me'gaht has never encountered any black holes!"

"Ah, but Me'gaht was a _skilled_ pilot!" Shar-Issq retorted. Trecha was about to bring the tool kit down on Shar-Issq's head when Yojhain and Nidrua walked through the door. He rapidly moved his hands back to the controls.

"I hope we're safe in your hands, Trecha," Nidrua stated, with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Yes," Trecha replied rather bluntly. Nidrua turned to Yojhain.

"We've seen their weaponry, and know that they are fierce opponents. We need to stop them before they do any more damage. Have you found out anything about this 'Murakht'?"

"I have," the masked Yautja replied. "He was a teacher on board a training ship: honourable, well respected... I cannot understand why he joined the Bad Bloods."

"How did this Yautja get to them?"

"His crew said he received a message only a few days ago. He went off on a shuttle – seemingly 'concerned about something', they said – and they have not heard from him since."

"Are any of the Ga'ed-a'rath crew related?"

"I haven't checked that yet," Yojhain replied.

"Well make sure you do. And for goodness sake boy – take off your mask!" Nidrua snarled before he pushed past the Yautja and out of the bridge. With Nidrua gone, Trecha finally brought the tool kit down on Shar-Issq's head. Amidst the squabbling of his two inferior's, Yojhain did what his leader told him and took off his mask. He stared at the face-visor and contemplated putting it back on. His face was terribly scarred – and they were not scars he was proud of.

Yojhain had earned the scars through his arrogance; when he was a very young blooded, he had bragged that he could have any female he wanted – including one that was within ear-shot. She was so offended that she had lashed out at him, breaking his bones and slashing at his face. None of the other Young Bloods ever bragged near a female again. As if those scars were not enough, he had disobeyed Nidrua, thinking his own way better. As a result, Yojhain had misjudged the strength of his prey and a Kainde-Amedha over-powered him. Had it not been for Nidrua's kind interference, he would not have lived. No; he was not proud of his scars. And he was ashamed that it had taken so much effort to take away his youthful arrogance. Now, Yojhain was silent. He listened more than talked and exercised extreme caution when dealing with any enemy. The scars were from a past he did not want to remember – did not want others to see. And remembering this, he replaced his mask.

* * *

Jechonde, Kekhani and Me'gaht had found the source of the unusual power-readings. The mountain towered in front of them, with sharp cliff-faces and obscure angles which seemed to make it impossible to climb. Nevertheless, they trudged forward, checking every direction wearily. Only the howling wind kept the three company, blowing their heavy braids in every direction. They soon reached the foot of the mountain.

"I don't see any structures that could be emitting the power," Me'gaht said aloud.

"Well, perhaps they're on the other side and you just dropped us off in the wrong place!" Kekhani sneered.

"...No," Jechonde responded silently, his voice carrying with the wind. Narrowing his eyes, he took out his spear-gun and stalked over to a part of the mountain-wall where there was a semi-concealed hole. He looked through it. Using the different visor modes, he could see that the power source was coming from _inside_ the mountain. "If only we had little Er'ed with us – he might be able to get through," he muttered under his breath.

Something flashed by through the darkness of the hole, and Jechonde jerked up the spear-gun whilst jumping away. "There's something in there!" He hissed. Kekhani unconsciously let out a grunt, remembering earlier when Jechonde thought he was being chased. "It's true this time! There _was_ something there!"

"Are we going to go in?" Me'gaht asked, trying to draw them away from a confrontation.

"Of course," Jechonde replied. "But we'll need to find somewhere else to gain access."

"How about up there?" Kekhani asked, pointing almost directly upwards. In the rock-face, there appeared to be yet another entrance – one that they could possibly enter if they were crouching.

"Yes – we'll try up there," Jechonde told them. Kekhani and Me'gaht began to find a way up, but Jechonde lingered at the hole a little longer, wondering what he had seen.

* * *

Me'gaht was the last to haul himself to the top of the platform, his chest heaving with the effort.

"You need to get into better shape, Me'gaht" Kekhani sniggered. Me'gaht dealt him a hand-sign as a response. He looked about him: the platform was quite wide and could hold up to seven Yautja. It looked down onto the valleys and hills below them, and Me'gaht could see the sands writhing about as if the were alive, like some giant serpent. The ledge did not lead to anywhere else externally – there were only two ways to go from here: back down, or through the open tunnel. To the right of the remaining tunnel, there seemed to be a cave, but a few metres inside, rubble, boulders and stones were piled up at the back. If it had lead anywhere else, it was useless now.

Jechonde was already examining the tunnel: it was larger than it had appeared from below. In fact, they could almost stand while walking through it. He turned to his subordinates.

"Are you both ready?" He asked them. They gave a positive reply. "Then let's go." Jechonde made a show of readying his weapons to tell the other two to do the same. They all entered the tunnel cautious of their surroundings and more than a little nervous, but Me'gaht experienced these feelings most of all.

The three warriors tip-toed through the shadows, searching for something, anything, that would bring this strange mission to an end. In front of them, Jechonde noticed the stone walls meld into different metals. They were metals that Yautja used in their technology. Jechonde shivered, realising that Nidrua had been keeping things from him, and that this little expedition could have deeper implications to their mission than he had thought. Me'gaht also noticed the technology, and suddenly his intuition told him to leave immediately.

"Alright! We've found our evidence – now let's go," he told them.

"Not scared are you, Me'gaht?" Kekhani grinned teasingly.

"We need to go on, Me'gaht," Jechonde responded. "Knowing that there is Yautja technology here is not enough; we need to know _why_."

"Something's not right."

"I know."

"Perhaps it's best if we just leave now and report this to Nidrua." Jechonde answered Me'gaht's apparent pessimism by carrying onwards. They reached what seemed like a dead end, but it was too smooth to be natural. Jechonde ran his fingers across the surface and felt a line run down the middle. His fingers recoiled as the surface moved – opening by a hair's breadth. It did not move any further.

"Kekhani! Open it up!" Kekhani stuck his spear into the gap and began to force it open. Something black moved within the darkness – more felt than seen. Kekhani hissed and jumped back, dropping his spear in the process. He mentally reprimanded himself for doing so.

"There _is_ something in there!" Jechonde turned back to the doors and began to force it open with his hands.

"Wait! Are you sure that's wi-" Before Me'gaht had finished his sentence, Jechonde had fully opened both of the doors. A blast of stale air fled from the room, as if imprisoned and finally thankful to have been released. They looked into the interior. There was only a swarm of darkness inside. Jechonde readied his spear gun, and taking a deep breath, stepped into the shadows, vanishing from the others' sight.

Jechonde had only taken three steps into the room when machinery began to whirr, and slowly, lights came on above him. It revealed a layer of dust that had been disturbed by the footprints of other Yautja – and scratch marks running all across the floor. Me'gaht and Kekhani hesitantly followed. The three stared around them in amazement and awe; they were surrounded by ancient Yautja technology. The style was something that would be considered inconceivable and crude nowadays. The text that appeared on the monitor was barely decipherable compared to what they knew. At the very top, there seemed to be more holes in the ceiling, as if something had torn away at it. Jechonde could not see these holes clearly however, because the lights near these holes did not seem to be functioning correctly. But there was something in the room that held their attention more than anything else: a small opalescent sphere in the centre of the room that had been fixed into a small work station connected to the floor.

"It looks as if we haven't been the only ones here since this place was closed down," Kekhani muttered to the other two. Jechonde had crossed over to the sphere, and reached out to touch it. "What do you think those scratching markings are? I suppose a battle took place in here a while ag-." A high-pitched shriek echoed throughout the room and all three spun to look at the holes above them. Kainde-amedha began to filter out – running straight for them.

"Get _out_!" Jechonde ordered. "Get back to the ship! _Now_!" The Yautja fled from the room, leaving it almost the way it was before. The sphere remained untouched.

* * *

"What is this place?" Du'skaa said aloud, staring reverently at the high-vaulted ceiling and out-dated masonry.

"It looks like some kind of old outpost to me," Ar'oth responded. Kurath looked at the sphere in front of him, and at the patterns that were only revealed in the room's pale light. He wondered what would happen if he touched it... He stretched out a claw when a shriek stopped him in his tracks. All of them looked to the ceiling as the roof erupted with Kainde-amedha.

"Fall back!" Kurath shouted to his men. "Fall back!" All of them raced for the exit, dodging and trying to avoid the myriad of claws. Falkish was the first to fall – going down under hundreds of black claws. Kurath could still hear him roaring, but even though he wanted to help his warrior, there was nothing Kurath could do. He ran onwards, watching the rest of his men in front of him flee, being bombarded from all sides by the black bugs. Black tails flailed and darted out everywhere, slicing and piercing their armour as if it were made of water. Xirrin decided to turn and fight, instantly getting his head taken off messily by a tail of one of the swarming enemy Wour'nin tripped and fell, but was fortunately caught by Youyoun. None of them could yet make out the light of day in the passageway ahead. Kurath realised that if this continued, none of them would survive. He took out his bombs and threw them at the walls behind him before hurriedly pressing the trigger. There were explosions – adding to the chaos. Some of the Kainde-amedha were killed in the blast whilst others died when the tunnel collapsed on them – Kurath narrowly missed being taken out by the falling roof himself. This particular route to the secret chamber could never be used again. The numbers of the Kainde-amedha lessened and the battle was turning more in their favour. Kurath watched as the last of his crew threw themselves out of the tunnel only a couple of metres in front of him. He could see the light! He could hear the aggressive howling winds! Now if only he could make it...

A Kainde-amedha sprung at him from the entrance, claws outstretched, jaws open. He didn't have enough time to react –

* * *

Kurath opened his eyes. He was back in his quarters. He did not fear the Kainde-amedha anymore – nor did he fear his dreams. It was a message – a message from the gods. He needed to hurry his mission and see it through to the end – no matter how many lives it cost. His crew, his life – the lives of others... it mattered not. As long as he reached the end of his mission and avenged all of his fallen comrades. As long as he made all of them see: the _truth_.

End of Chapter 8

* * *

A/N: I understand that people have trouble remembering who is on what ship (and admittedly, so do I) so here is a list of the ships, the people who are on them, and any more relevant information:

Ship Name: _Aki're'ga_

Warriors:

Nidrua – Leader.

Jechonde – Second-in-command.

Yojhain

Uyari

Fi'dre'n

Me'gaht

Ekkudo

Trecha

Kekhani

Askar'n

Er'ed

Shar-Issq

Ah'ni'drin - Runt

* * *

Ship Name: _Ga'ed-a'rath_

Bad Bloods:

Kurath – Leader.

Murakht – Teacher and Kurath's brother.

Nie'de – Second-in-Command.

'Tkon'te

In'dre-an'de

Ha-rauth

Greeahnyau

Sin-ae'de – Runt

* * *

All are blooded.


	10. New Blades

Chapter 8 Reviews:

Amouthea – Here's another chapter! This won't be the final version though – my beta is away and she always notices ways to improve it. XD Have a happy New Year to all!

A/N: Damn it, I've been so ill lately, which is why this chapter is later than planned. I won't tell you how I am ill, but my last attempted meal is currently trying to get out of my system in a style much akin to a chest-burster.

* * *

Chapter 9 

Me'gaht sat at the console, piloting the ship whilst Kekhani attended to the most serious of his wounds.

"I told you: you need to get fitter!" Kekhani smirked. Me'gaht did not hear what the younger Yautja had said; he was absorbed half with the piloting, and half with what he had just witnessed. They would have lots to tell Nidrua when they returned. But the point was: what did it have to do with the Arbitrators – or even the Bad Bloods for that matter? His thoughts were interrupted as Kekhani plunged the device into his back, causing searing pain in all of his veins; the healing device sealed all of his wounds. No warrior could help but shout aloud from the agonizing process.

"Where do we go from here? Back to Nidrua, I guess," Kekhani stated aloud.

"I don't see what else we can do but follow that course of action – and those were our orders after all: 'at the first sign of trouble, you are to leave'," Me'gaht replied. Now it was Jechonde's task to remain silent.

"Let's get back to the Aki're'ga then," he replied solemnly. _I wonder what's been going on in the meantime_, Jechonde thought.

* * *

Repair work on the Aki're'ga had been completed, although everything seemed to be going so slow. Most of the yautja had spent their time in training to prevent getting in the way of the skilled mechanics: Shar-Issq, Yojhain and Ekkudo. They could be of no other use at that time. Nidrua sat in his private study, reading all the texts he could find on the planet Koreishta. He had to be careful what he requested though – some of the Arbitrators had already begun to ask questions. From what was in front of him, the planet had never been of much interest to the Yautja; the life-forms were considered worthy of hunting, yet none were ever taken. The planet's environment was not toxic or dangerous enough to be considered worthy of examination, in his own opinion. A knock came from the other side of the door before Ah'ni'drin walked in without waiting for acknowledgement; his status as 'runt' always amused Nidrua enough to give him some special privileges that the others did not receive. However, Nidrua's patience was decidedly less than usual. 

"I hope those aren't your weekly crosswords you're doing, Leader Nidrua," Ah'ni'drin smirked. Nidrua was very surprised that his subordinate had used such an honourable address during his statement.

"Three across: 'Another name for Ah'ni'drin. Begins with a 'W', six letters'," Nidrua replied in dulcimer tones, pretending to be absorbed in the 'crossword'. Ah'ni'drin's eyebrows rose at the same moment he unconsciously cocked his head to one side quizzically. "Wanker!" Nidrua rebuked, throwing the data-pad at his inferior. The young Yautja dodged it with ease – especially as the throw had not been designed to hurt him, but send him a clear message of respecting his superiors. Ah'ni'drin was about to speak – possibly to say something sensible – when Askar'n swiftly turned from the hallway to face Nidrua and rapped on the door rapidly.

"Come _in_," Nidrua said, making a show to Ah'ni'drin that Askar'n's manners were greatly preferable. The light in Askar'n's eyes seemed somewhat subdued by anxiety and his brow was deeply furrowed with concern – he didn't look at all pleased with whatever he knew. "Well? What is it?" Nidrua asked with a touch of impatience.

"We have company," the warrior reported.

"Ready the others; prepare to face the Bad-bloods!" Nidrua roared, his rage already building up for his enemy.

"They aren't Bad-bloods, leader," Askar'n replied. "They are other warriors – claiming that they were sent by the Arbitrators!" Weary concern swept across Nidrua's face. "They are waiting to speak to you over the communication system right now."

* * *

As Nidrua moved toward his ship's bridge, he thought of all of the possible scenarios that could happen with these new comers. Then there were the questions that needed to be answered: why were they here? Who had sent them? And most importantly: what did they know of Kurath, his crew and their plans? 

Perhaps these new Yautja knew nothing, and were just there by chance… but Nidrua seriously doubted that. Almost automatically, he turned the communication system on and gave his formal address.

"I am Leader Nidrua of the Kalshawk clan. This is my ship, the Aki're'ga. Please state your name and purpose," Nidrua announced. There was a short break break before the reply was made.

"I am Leader Treska of the Kalshawk clan. My ship is the Nir-iss'in. I have come with Leader O'ark of the Kalshawk clan, with his ship the Jar'ed-ahn, to take over your duties. The Arbitrators want us to pursue the Bad Bloods now. Your authority on the matter has been revoked. Return to your normal duties," the Yautja leader replied. He had sounded younger than Nidrua, but his tone had been full of disrespect. The communications shut off suddenly and the two new ships sped off after their quarry. Nidrua mused on the new situation, seemingly unmoved by what had just taken place.

"Strange how they had so little contact with us…" he muttered almost to himself. "Why, they didn't even ask to find out what knowledge we had accumulated on the Bad Blood ship and crew!" Nidrua thought on this a little longer. "We must continue to follow the Ga'ed-a'rath!" He announced to them all. "We must keep a good distance though – enough to keep tracking them but as far away as possible so that we do not get involved!"

"But leader! This order came from Arbitrators!" Askar'n replied, shocked that his leader would think about disobeying an order – and shocked at himself for questioning his leader. "Shouldn't we-"

"No, Askar'n, I don't think we should do anything but carry on with our original plans," Nidrua replied, the area between his eyes creasing indignantly. "I want to know what this Kurath is up to! And besides, I don't believe that that cocky little leader and his companion can hold their own against the crew of the Ga'ed-a'rath."

"Leader Nidrua! The shuttle that Jechonde, Me'gaht and Kekhani took – it's heading back towards us!" Trecha told him, slightly surprised and relieved at the same time that he would not have to pilot the Aki're'ga any longer.

"Well then, let's go see what they've found out."

* * *

End of Chapter 9 


End file.
